The air was
filled with flying spray, which made the scene appear hazy and unreal.
One of the men was clinging to the perilous after-deck and striving
to cast off the water-logged skiff. The boy, leaning far over the
cockpit-rail and holding on for dear life, was passing him a knife.
The second man stood at the wheel, putting it up with flying hands
and forcing the sloop to pay off. Beside him, his injured arm in a
sling, was Red Nelson, his sou'wester gone and his fair hair plastered
in wet, wind-blown ringlets about his face. His whole attitude breathed
indomitability, courage, strength. It seemed almost as though the divine
were blazing forth from him. Joe looked upon him in sudden awe, and,
realizing the enormous possibilities of the man, felt sorrow for the way
in which they had been wasted. A thief and a robber! In that flashing
moment Joe caught a glimpse of human truth, grasped at the mystery of
success and failure. Life threw back its curtains that he might read it
and understand. Of such stuff as Red Nelson were heroes made; but they
possessed wherein he lacked--the power of choice, the careful poise of
mind, the sober control of soul: in short, the very things his father
had so often "preached" to him about.
These were the thoughts which came to Joe in the flight of a second. Then
the _Reindeer_ swept skyward and hurtled across their bow to leeward on
the breast of a mighty billow.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144